


Midnight

by Fighter1Day



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Negative Thoughts, Pregnancy, Pregnant!Junkrat, Trans!Junkrat, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fighter1Day/pseuds/Fighter1Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jamie wakes up in the middle of the night, it's never for a good reason. Now, he wakes up with the only threat being his own mind. At times like this, Mako can only try to relate and comfort him in his hours of need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> DYSPHORIA WARNING: In case you didn't read all the tags: this story is about a pregnant transman. If your dysphoria is triggered by pregnancy or anything associated with it, please don't read this fic.

“Yer up early,” he chuckled. His voice weak as he woke.

Looking around the room, he adjusted to the darkness. It was still late _. “It’s what… 1 o’clock?”_ He sighed, bringing his hand up to rub sleep from his eyes. The past week had been agonizing. His brow furrowed and he brought his hand to his stomach, “ _shit”_.

A crack in the curtains let pass a ray of blue moonlight. It cut across the bed, highlighting his abdomen. His lips were pulled back in a grimace as he felt it again, felt _her_. He gasped as she kicked him again, harder than before, in the ribs. She wasn’t trying to be difficult, had no idea the pain she was causing him… he knew that but dammit that didn’t do a thing for the agony he was in.

Reaching behind himself, he struggled to push himself up. He slammed his fist on the mattress, frustration welling in him. After all those years in that irradiated hell-scape, fighting for every scrap and puddle, he couldn’t even sit up on his own. All that strength was fading now that they took away his leg, his arm… his dignity. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried again. He grunted when she decided to bruise him in that moment, kicking him hard enough that he lost the three inches he’d gained.

The tears began to fall. He bit his lip and curled inward. _Useless_ , he was absolutely useless like this. His hand moved to press against the swell of his distended abdomen. This had been his choice… his alone. He’d lost his arm and his leg by his own hand, picking fights he shouldn’t have. The hatred he felt then— when he’d come to as half a man—was nothing like he felt now.

A hand against his shoulders startled him. Looking up through the veil of tears his eyes met chocolate brown. He could feel the fingers tighten just barely, the man’s eyes questioning in the dark room. _“So weak…”_  Shame welled inside of him as another hand came to rest on his own. He turned his head away, unable to face him as he cried.

His back shook and he began to gasp, his breathing stuttering. Tears poured down his reddening cheeks as he bawled. His chest and shoulders heaved with heavy breathes, occasionally sputtering into a gasping staccato as he coughed and choked on the lump in his throat. He covered his face. He hid it when he felt those eyes burning into him. When that hand only pulled him closer…

“Jamison,” a voice that boomed over the sounds of anarchy and chaos whispered, barely audible. It was clear and smooth without the muffling effect of leather as the man leaned forward and called his name again, “Jamison.”

He tried to turn his head further. “No, please. Don’ look a’ me.” His voice sounded just as broken as he was as it cracked beneath heavy sobs. “Please, Mako, don’t!”

Again the voice came, just behind his head, “Jamison, breathe.” Lips pressed against his neck as the hand on his abdomen began to move. Slow circles were traced on the sensitive skin. Swirls dipped around his naval, pulled flat by the pressure. He whimpered against the gentle touches. “Talk to me, Jamie.”

Mako said it again and again and again as he continued to bawl. The man was calm as he continued his attentions through the bawling. He just laid there as the cries became smothered whimpers and coughing. His tone and behavior remained unchanged when he watched his charge wipe his nose on the sheets. He hummed soft praises and kind words when the whimpers became less frequent and he _could_ be heard.

A massive paw wiped at the tracks left on his cheeks. “Jamison, is this about her?”

“No…” He sniffled, making a snorting sound as snot continued to drip from his nose. “Oi’m useless, Mako. Oi’m broken.”

Pulling the smaller man closer, tighter against himself, Mako cradled him in his arms. He shushed him. “Jamie,” it almost sounded like a moan, long and drawn out, but it was too soft. All of it…

He strived to isolate himself from Mako, his one arm just as useless as the rest of him as he merely writhed beside his bodyguard. “No, ya’ don’ get it.” His lips pulled into a tight, flat line as the reality of the words sunk in, “Oi can’t do anything anymore. Not even ‘llowed ta walk since ya’ let Mercy take my leg…” His eyes slammed shut, starbursts erupting behind the lids. “I hate her.”

A silver eyebrow rose. “You know Mercy is doing what’s best for you. That I wouldn’t do anything t—…”

“It’s not for me. You know that.” His hand moved to his stomach. “It’s because ah’ her. If Oi hadn’t a been so stupid… if it wasn’ for her…”

A grunt drew his attention back up to his partner. “You’re not stupid, ‘Rat.” Even in the darkness of their room Mako could see the way he shifted, the way his eyes sparked. “You’re not broken or useless. You’re stronger than I’ll ever be.” His hand pressed against the slope of his belly, where—again—his fingers moved in soothing patterns against the stretched skin. “’Rat, you’re a smart fella. You’ve lived and fought through Hell on Earth, but the battle you’re fighting right now is different. What made you strong back there, isn’t what’s gonna work now. You need to realize that.

“The reckless abandon that kept you alive for so long in the Outback isn’t going to do either of you a lick a’ good right now. Now, everything has to be slow and calculated because _we_ aren’t alone in that wasteland anymore. We aren’t fighting for every scrap part or piece a’ shade. We aren’t fighting for food. We aren’t fighting for our lives…” Mako leaned into him, his forehead resting against his own. “Fuck, Jamie, there isn’t even a battle to fight,” a low chuckle interrupted his words before a certain blonde did.

“Watch yer mouth, mate,” he hissed. His brow furrowed over the glare that locked on the larger man. “Ya’ heard Lucio say tha’ she can hear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware, as a trans man, that a pregnant trans character is hardly a celebrated idea inside of and outside of the community. A lot of people have dysphoria and are uncomfortable about the idea, which I totally understand.
> 
> I do not want to fetishize pregnancy; and I will stop if I find there is a problem with people doing that based on my work. I am only trying to celebrate what I've been so afraid of my whole life, wanting so desperately to transition and be accepted by the community that I was willing to deny myself something I want in the future.
> 
> As always, with any other, please respect both me and my work if you chose to comment or critique.  
> Thank you.


End file.
